


Bend

by Kei (adakie)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baby Blasters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9686810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adakie/pseuds/Kei
Summary: W.D. Gaster's new creation was supposed to be the first of seven living weapons that would one day break the barrier and free monster kind.  Looking at the tiny puppy, it's hard to imagine that it could ever have that kind of power.  Especially when things start to go wrong.  Now, the scientist finds himself faced with a difficult question; should he save subject 1-S?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, I should be working on my two other fics and am absolutely the worst, but … well, this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. So, I decided to start writing this too, and boy it was a great way to break out of writers block and get started again. And no, this is not part of my normal babyblasters storyline. WitD, TLtN, and the oneshots are all one connected story, but this is its own thing. An au of an au (of an au of an … well you know). And as such, it’s gonna be very different. And also a lot shorter. Yep, short chapters from me for once. Shocking, I know! Not too many of them either, I think. i just wanted to write this sort of on the side to explore a few what-ifs (and because I missed writing nice Gaster!). (side note; the assistant in this currently has no name or description because … well I didn’t know who to use. I might go with one of the followers or Sil (a background oc from To Last the Night) but … not sure yet. )
> 
> Credit where credit is due, I wanted to point out some of the inspirations behind this (and also recommend some awesome fics). While planning this out I wound up thinking back on two amazing works; A Year Every Minute by askull4everyoccasion on tumblr and Creative Problem Solving by bermudablue here on ao3. Both of which are fantastic and if you haven’t read either then you should stop right now and go do so. But oddly enough the real source of inspiration for this story was … making babyblaster bjds for spacegate. I’m not kidding! I wasn’t going to make a pair for myself until the chest piece I made for hers wound up warping in the oven. I couldn’t use it for a gift, it didn’t look right anymore, but it was still a functional piece. So … well, you’ll see …
> 
> I hope you guys like this little tangent of a fic.

W. D. Gaster stared down at the file in his hands, one foot tapping out an anxious rhythm on the polished tile floor as he read over his own notes for what had to have been the hundredth time. 'Determination Trials’, the somewhat worn cover read, ‘WDG-DTP5-BP-0018 1-R’. He flipped through page after page of carefully recorded observations chronicling the process by which subject 1-R had been created. The ratios of different magics that had been merged to create its soul. The time it had taken that newly crafted soul to stabilize and the amount of external energy that had to be introduced to achieve that. Growth rates. Energy levels. Liquid magic supplement types. Everything he’d done had been carefully monitored and recorded, checked and double checked for any signs of irregularities, yet it still hadn’t been enough.

'Irreversible soul destabilization.’ The neatly printed words, bold and accusing even in his own signature script, hardly did his failure justice. After the horrific, liquified mess subjects 1-O through 1-Q had become only a few short months into their incubation, he’d vowed to find the correct ratio of Determination to monster magic before daring to attempt the procedure again. And then, after countless hours of calculations and testing, he’d found it. At long last one of his creations had developed the way it should, forming not only a stable soul but a body as well. But then, when he’d tried to remove the subject from incubation, everything went wrong. Due to the influence of Determination on its physical form, 1-R’s bones hadn’t fully calcified the way they should have and the creature had been unable to support and sustain itself outside of the magic infused liquid it had developed in. In his eager haste, Gaster hadn’t even thought to test for such things. The fact that the creature would likely have never survived outside containment regardless of if he’d noticed the problem ahead of time or not was little comfort when he’d been forced to clear away the dust of yet another failure. 

The scientist closed the thick folder he held with a weary sigh. He placed it back at the end of a row of seventeen other similar files and turned his attention to the one folder left sitting on his desk. Barrier project experiment attempt number nineteen. Subject 1-S.

Snatching up the file and taking a pen from the deep pockets of his lab coat, Gaster jotted down a few notes to himself as he left his office. There was so much to be done today. He’d been in the lab working ever since what passed for dawn in his subterranean home, too anxious to even be tempted by the thought of sleep. By the time his assistant had come in to join him, already chattering excitedly about the 'big day’, he’d run every test imaginable on his latest creation. 

Gaster pocketed his pen and retrieved a large mug of coffee, still sitting by the containment chamber where he’d left it. The drink was stone cold and bitter, but he was used to that. He sipped it slowly, barely aware of the flavor so many others found overpowering, as he stood in the pale green glow of the incubation tank. The tall, glass cylinder was full of a thick liquid made up of mostly synthetic magic. It sat atop a sturdy metal base which housed the various mechanical parts necessary to keep the mixture warm and ensure the development of the creature housed within it. And suspended at its center, amidst the various wires and tubes that had sustained it during these long months, was subject 1-S.

Just like each of its predecessors, 1-S was a combination of human and monster soul energies fused together with both science and magic to make something entirely new. If the creature turned out the way Gaster intended, it would be strong, intelligent, and capable of wielding devastatingly powerful magic. As strong as a human mage, if his calculations were correct. And if he could really do it, if he could create not just one but seven of these creatures, they would be a force strong enough to destroy the barrier and free monster kind from the underground. No more human children unfortunate enough to fall into their realm would have to die. No more monster children would be sentenced to a lifetime in this dark prison. They could end generations worth of suffering. If only his creations would live. 

The creature in the tank was small, smaller than he’d predicted and, in fact, smaller than 1-R had been on the ill-fated day of its extraction. And just like 1-R, the end result of all the mixed magic types that had come together to form the soul of 1-S had resulted in a creature that could not be easily classified. It had developed the solidly built legs of a canine, the flexible spine and sharp claws of a feline, and a vaguely reptilian tail. That odd combination of features was interesting enough, but the unique anatomy of its sloping, crested skull made his creation unlike anything Gaster had seen in any animal or monster. 

Like most of the others that had come before it, 1-S was skeletal in nature. Unsurprising considering W. D. Gaster himself had been the primary soul energy donor. It took so much magic and raw life energy to create each one of the experimental souls that, while he did readily make use of donations from the few other researchers aware of the project, the scientist always seemed to find himself running short and filling the gaps with his own magic. While this did carry a higher risk than he wanted to admit to himself, each time leaving him exhausted and dizzy as he came dangerously close to draining his reserves, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask someone else to take that risk for him. Besides, he always recovered after a few days. And, in his opinion at least, if the project was successful it would be well worth all the risks. 

There were other benefits to using his own magic as well. For one thing, it was easier to tack development in a skeletal being. There was no risk of unseen, internal complications, because there was nothing 'internal’ about the creature at all. Except for its magic, but that was being carefully monitored for any potentially dangerous irregularities. There were other risk factors to consider, mostly to do with how fragile a young skeleton’s physical form could be, but their predominantly magical nature made for even greater potential power. It was a tradeoff Gaster was more than willing to accept. 

The sound of approaching footsteps drew his attention as his assistant came to join him. “Everything looks good,” they said as they checked something off on a clipboard then flipped it so that Gaster could see what they’d written. The very same tests he’d run twice himself and had been about to ask them to run as well. He looked over the numbers, checking them against his own findings. They couldn’t afford any mistakes this time. 

“Alright,” he said, moving his hands in precise gestures that had long ago become second nature to him. “Let’s begin the extraction.”

For the next few minutes, the lab was a flurry of activity. The large, heavy cap that sealed the incubation chamber was removed and set aside. Some sequences were terminated while others were started to take their place. A rush of bubbles rose up through the green liquid and a soft hissing sound emanated from the mechanisms beneath it. Gaster felt his soul pounding in his chest as the fluid slowly began to drain. He summoned a set of floating hands, comprised of magic bone much like his attacks but without any hint of harmful intent behind them, and guided them into the cylinder. Phantom sensations washed over him as he reached into the thick, warm liquid. Carefully, he cupped the small creature in his hands and held it secure as the liquid slowly drained around it. It seemed to take forever, but at last the fluid level dipped low and his creation settled into the conjured hands. 

Excitement made the scientist’s magic race, but he steadied himself as best he could. If he rushed things now, he would just be inviting another disaster. With agonizing slowness, he lifted 1-S, attached monitor cables and all, out of the tube. His assistant dutifully called out the data their machines were receiving about the creation. Magic levels steady. No noticeable variation in DT. Soul energy spiking, but that was to be expected given the sudden change in circumstances. He couldn’t see any signs of melting or unexpected indentations in the skull. The scientist called on his own magic, feeling the warmth of energy sparking in his eye sockets, and a pale indigo haze colored the world around him as he used his power to check his creation’s soul in a way no machine ever could. Health, strength, defenses, all on the low side but not unbearably so. No doubt they would improve with time. And underneath, there was the pulse of new magic glimmering in shifting shades of blue.

As the sheen of magic faded from his vision, Gaster slowly became aware of a subtle vibration against his conjured hands underscored by the faint rattle of tiny bones. His creation was shaking in his grasp. No, he realized, not 'shaking’. Shivering. It was cold. And no wonder, the lab was quite chilly compared to the warmth of the incubation tank. Gaster levitated the creature closer to him and reached out, carefully taking his creation into his arms. 1-S stirred in his grasp, its tiny body pressing close to his chest. His magic pulsed a little faster as the skeletal creature nuzzled him, eagerly soaking up his warmth. It was so small. So fragile. Its entire body couldn’t have been longer than his radius. 

“Sir?” his assistant said, snapping him back to reality. They handed him a towel and helped him clean 1-S, wiping away the last traces of green fluid until it’s bones were sparkling white. Gaster took a second, clean towel and swaddled the creature in it, carefully threading the fabric around the various wires and tubes still connected to his creation. When that was done he set 1-S on a nearby cot. His eager assistant, practically buzzing with excitement over their success, set to work moving the necessary equipment over and locking guard rails in place as an added bit of precaution against potential accidents. 

The creature squirmed in its towel cocoon, wriggling out of the soft fabric just enough to raise its head which wobbled on its thin neck. Its tiny muzzle pointed towards the scientist, twitching as if sniffing the air. Eye socket blinked open, squinting at first but then large and round as they stared up at him. Faint hints of light glittered in their dark depths. 1-S let out the tiniest squeak of a sound.

Gaster could hardly believe it. Knowing the data was one thing, but seeing it, touching it, watching it move on its own, that was something else. Against all odds, 1-S was alive. He was so lost in his own amazement that he didn’t even realize his assistant was talking until they grasped his hand and shook it. 

“Congratulations,” they said, breathless with a heady mixture of relief and excitement, “you finally did it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he managed to reply, his own voice faintly choked with the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. So many years of work, countless sleepless nights spent pouring over data from failure after failure, and now here it was. 1-S; the first successful life created from monster and human magic. The culmination of the Determination Trials that had dominated his life since the completion of the CORE. The first of seven living weapons that might one day strike down the barrier. That lofty goal had never seemed closer. But for now, 1-S was just a newborn. Nothing but a helpless little puppy. Gaster rested his free hand gently on the bundled form, feeling the faint rise and fall of the creature’s chest as its first shallow breaths gradually settled into an even, calming rhythm. He wasn’t entirely sure what would become of this tiny thing he’d made, but for now, this was enough. 

When his assistant returned to work the next morning, they found the scientist fast asleep in a desk chair beside his creation’s bed, his head resting on the edge of the cot and the sleeping puppy’s muzzle pressed against his outstretched hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I wish I was getting these out quicker. Ever time I make a significant amount of progress I end up getting sick somehow. But, I AM working on the next part of TLtN. I’m just taking my time to get this chapter right because ooh boy it’s an important one. So, umm, in the meantime … small sad/cute other fic update?
> 
> Alright, time to reveal the final inspiration behind this fic … kittens. I keep up with two people who foster abandoned kittens and some of their stories are heartbreaking and wonderful. And this story in particular was very much influenced by an amazing little kitty named Grant. He was a whole lot of determination in a very small package, and his story is proof that sometimes you really can beat the odds. So, yes, this chapter is going to get very … very sad … but, trust me when I say this story will have a happy ending.

Sometimes, W. D. Gaster felt like he was chained to his desk.  He was always working, that much hadn’t changed over the years, but at least in the past the problems he’d had to solve had been more, for lack of a better word, practical.  He could experiment, test, and do more than just theorize and hope his calculations had been correct.  Even when those test resulted in failure, at least he’d felt like he had accomplished something.  But when it came to this stage of the Determination Trials, that sort of experimentation was no longer an option.  

He downed the dregs of yet another cup of the cold, strong coffee that had been his lunch.  Things were supposed to get easier once he’d successfully extracted subject 1-S from its incubation tank.  But instead, the complications just kept coming.  1-S wasn’t doing as well as Gaster had hoped it would.  Which wasn’t to say that things were all bad either.  His creation had yet to melt or fall apart like the previous attempts had.  Magic still pulsed through its soul.  Truly, not much had changed from the day he’d removed 1-S from the tank.  But, that was exactly the problem.  The creature should have been growing, gaining mass and strength each day, but after a whole week it had barely grown at all.  

The words ‘failure to thrive’ marked Gaster’s notes like an ominous prophecy.  Sometimes, baby monsters just didn’t make it.  It was a tragedy to witness but an unavoidable part of life.  Given the similar symptoms, it was only logical to assume that the same thing was true for subject 1-S; the creature just didn’t have the will to survive.  It was distinctly possible, but the scientist was beginning to doubt his own conclusion.  Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he never wanted to believe it in the first place.  As he went over his calculations for the next phase of the project, tentatively dubbed 2-A, his thoughts kept wandering back to 1-S.  There had to be an explanation for the creature’s listlessness and a way to fix it.  

The sound of sloshing water echoed in the lab.  Most often, the space was filled with the electric hum of machines and occasional frustrated muttering, so this came as a surprisingly pleasant change.  Seeking out the source of it, Gaster looked up to see his assistant placing a large plastic bowl of steaming water on an otherwise empty counter.  A towel was flung over their shoulder and a soft looking cloth was draped over the rim of the bowl.  It seemed that Sif was going through with their plan to give 1-S a warm bath.  Not that it was entirely necessary.  

Skeletal creatures were naturally clean due to the lack of fur or slime their more fleshy counterparts sported, and it wasn’t as if the creature had been out of the sterile environment of the lab.  Its temperature was acceptable as well, neither too hot nor too cold, though that was mostly due to the blankets and heating pad they’d placed on the cot that served as the small skeleton’s bed.  1-S had yet to begin producing any heat on its own, yet another worrying fact that marked Gaster’s observation notes.  Still, the scientist’s assistant had latched on to the thought that a bath might help the little creature.  Gaster had agree that there was some merit to the idea, if only as a new source of stimulus, though he lacked the time and patience to carry it out himself.  Luckily, that’s just the sort of thing assistants were best at.  He returned to his work, blocking out the sounds of splashing water and soft, muttered speech, but it wasn’t long before that relative peace was broken.  

“Doctor Gaster?” Sif called with unexpected urgency.  “You’d better come take a look at this.”

A distressed frown pulled at Gaster’s features.  It wasn’t like his assistant to worry without cause.  He hurried into the main lab, leaving his notes open and his coffee once again abandoned.  The blankets and heating pad had been taken away and replaced with a large towel that was stretched across the cot.  1-S rested on that thick fabric, having been shifted to lay on its side.  At first everything seemed almost normal, the only difference being that the pup’s breathing was oddly fast and shallow.  Even the monitors displayed the same painfully low vital information they had when Gaster had arrived an hour earlier.  Then, he saw it.

The small creature’s chest cavity should have been rounded, bowing out in a gradual curve that would expand as it drew in air to regulate the temperature of its soul and help circulate its magic.  But instead, the thin ribs were oddly flattened and the sternum bent inward, pressing into the narrowed space where his creation’s magic core rested.  It hadn’t looked like this a few days ago, Gaster was sure of that.  Everything had been fine when he’d pulled the tiny creature from the tank.  What had changed?

“What caused this?”

“I’m not sure, but look.”  His assistant carefully rolled the puppy onto its belly, lifting it at the shoulders to avoid putting any more pressure on its flattened ribs.  The creature’s thin spine had started to warp as well, only just beginning to curve out of its natural alignment in a way that would hinder, if not completely impair, its movement if allowed to continue.  Gaster reached down and ran his fingers along it, tracing the wandering path of those tiny, trembling vertebrae.

1-S was worryingly passive through the whole thing.  It didn’t struggle or fight, which at least made the doctor hope that his creation wasn’t in too much pain, but the little whimpers of distress it managed between panting breaths weren’t a good sign.  Why hadn’t the monitors picked up on this?  This sort of deformation had to have a cause, and a serious one at that.  Gaster activated his own magic, focusing it in hopes of finding the source of this problem before it got any worse.  

Through the tint of indigo magic, he saw into his creation’s soul.  The pure energy of its lifeforce was diminished, just like the monitors indicated, but there was something else there too.  Something that couldn’t be quantified by the safe, logical data that Gaster surrounded himself with.  The soul he had created was marred and the magic within it agitated.  Energy swirled restlessly within its core, shades of blue shot through with bright red.  

Leaving Sif to watch over the creature, Gaster retreated back to his desk and the thick folder full of his meticulously kept notes.  When those failed to shed any light on the mystery, he turned to the new information that his computer had recorded overnight.  He poured over the data, checking each set of numbers against those from the hours and days before it.  Nothing had changed until recently.  During the night, the creature’s respiration had begun to increase steadily until it reached the fevered pitch they were now witnessing.  That was when the warping must have started, but there was no sign of what might have caused it.  Unless …

The scientist flipped through the avalanche of papers, casting some aside until he found what he was looking for.  He felt his soul grow heavy behind his own ribs as he compared them to the latest readouts.  With 1-S failing to process any nourishment other than the liquid magic that had sustained it during incubation, they’d continued administering the same formula post-extraction.  And in doing so, they’d continued to give the tiny creature trace amounts of Determination.  That hadn’t been a problem before, when the pup’s own magic was developing as it should, but now that its soul growth was at a standstill, the DT ratio was off.  Any more Determination in its system and his creation would destabilize completely.  

Gaster trudge back to the main lab, still clutching the page of data that contained the damning evidence off his oversight.  Despite finding the cause of the trouble, he felt more defeated than ever.  Especially with the way his assistant was holding their creation, cradling the pup in their arms.  1-S was panting, warped chest jerking with each sharp breath.  Sif rubbed a thumb over the crest of its skull.

“Maybe we can do something.  Fix it before it gets any worse.”

“Possibly, but it’s a long shot.”  There was a chance that, with swift intervention and a lot of luck, they might be able to save the creature.   But if they did, what then?  They knew what had caused the partial melt, but not the reason for the creature’s stunted growth.  Even if they solved the immediate problem, that wouldn’t truly fix things.  And chances were high that the incident would have a permanent impact on 1-S.  What if it couldn’t fight?  Couldn’t walk?  Couldn’t even survive without constant assistance?  This wasn’t some pet he’d taken in, it was a weapon specifically crafted for a single purpose.  Or at least, it was meant to be.  

Though he hated himself for it, Gaster couldn’t deny how attached he’d gotten to his creation.  A part of him couldn’t help but view it not as the weapon he’d spent so much time engineering but as an innocent life in need of protection.  Though those thoughts contradicted each other, in many ways they were both true.  1-S was a living being, but one made for a purpose so much greater than any one life.  He wanted to save it, to do all he could to see this thing he’d made flourish, but at what cost?  For the sake of his work, he had to draw the line somewhere.  Besides, there was no point denying the truth; the poor thing was suffering.  Ending things before they got any worse would be mercy.  

“We should probably just put it down and try again,” Gaster muttered, his voice sounding as flat and dead as his soul felt.

“Probably.”  His assistant sighed, shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had settled upon them.  They cast a sorrowful glance towards the struggling creature and carefully set it down on the cot.  “We were so close.”  

The pup whined at the loss of contact, squirming and flailing its tiny limbs as if that alone would bring Sif back, but even that small amount of movement seemed to exhaust it.  It lay still when Gaster approached, his long shadow falling across the cot.  The scientist looked away.  He didn’t want to do this.  

Magic flashed in Gaster’s eye sockets once more, bright flares of it curling around his hand as he held it out, palm down, over his creation.  1-S shuddered as its soul was summoned, the pale core drifting up and into the scientist’s waiting hands.  The creature’s tiny soul beat wildly in his grasp.  Its brilliant white surface was marred by a patch of dull, muddy purple, bruising caused by the constant compression it had been subjected to.  It should have given up before that mark had even formed.  It wasn’t as if the creature had that much life in it to begin with.  But somehow, it still remained, clinging to that life even as it struggled to keep from being snuffed out.  1-S, it seemed, was determined to live.  

The pup let out little yelps of distress, tiny paws swiping at the air as weakness kept it trapped on its side.  Gaster released the magical core, guiding it back down to his creation.  The small, bruised soul sank back into warped ribs, pulsing bright within for a moment or two before fading from view.    
1-S whimpered, its cry so soft that it was hard to make out even in the quiet of the lab.  Gaster placed his hands on either side of the creature, leaning heavily onto the cot.  He couldn’t quite manage to stop himself from shaking.  The pup whined again and managed to wriggle closer to him, pressing the top of its skull against his arm.

“Sir?” Sif said, hopefulness more than evident in their otherwise professional tone.

It took Gaster a few moments to find his voice.  “There’s still a lot we can learn from this one, even if it doesn’t make it.  And it would be useful to have a prototype available to test some of the procedures we’ve got planned.”  

“So … we’ll fix it?” the other scientist asked, dark eyes practically glittering with barely restrained excitement.

“We’ll try.”

Deep down, Gaster knew he was making a mistake.  Sentimental decisions like this could spell disaster for the project, even with the slim yet valid justification he’d managed to find.  And even if they did save this one, they might just be sentencing the creature to a life of misery.  He couldn’t afford to lose sight of why they were doing this or what was truly at stake.  The fate of their entire race wasn’t worth one artificial animal.  But no matter how many good reasons he had to end his creation’s short life and move on, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.  

Gaster placed 1-S back on its heating pad, covering the shaking creature with a soft blanket.  He carefully pet the pup’s skull until it calmed, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.  He would do his best to save this tiny creature that depended on him.  He owed 1-S at least that much.    


End file.
